


Until I Had You On The Open Road

by neonstyxx



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Badlands, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-04-26 15:25:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5009935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonstyxx/pseuds/neonstyxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes finding your way home is not your biggest concern, and sometimes Newt is grateful that he is stranded all the way across the nation. </p><p>I mean, he met this cocky asshole with a rusty pick up, didn't he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't Belong To No City

**Author's Note:**

> title is taken from the song drive by halsey.

He was late. He knew pretty darn well that he was. His watch displayed 8.10, with every tick of the hand mocking his time management skill that decided to go downhill this morning. Ten minutes late, still 5 flights of stairs to go. He clenched his teeth and ran as fast as his legs could take him and his duffel bag. He checked the time between his ragged breaths, 8.15. Shit. No way in hell he was going to let the group leave him half way across the nation. No way in hell he was going to let himself gets stranded in a crappy hotel. No way. He skipped the last two stairs. 4 more floors.

His name is Newt and he was never late. Punctual, put-together, always-in-order Newt is never late. God knows what was in the air that morning that makes the lanky blonde late. Never in his life before, has Newt had to run down stairs in a haste of being late. Fuck the elevator system in this hotel for being 'under maintenance' when the brit was already running late. He wiped a drop of sweat, catching 8.30 on his watch in the process. Newt swore under his breath before breaking into a sprint on the last set of stairs.  
He ran past the lobby. He ran past the bell boy. Almost hit an old man, but he kept running. The door was just a sprint away. He kept running, duffel slipping on his shoulder. Dodged one of the sofa. So close. Jumped over a stray bag. The bus was still there. Newt took a deep breath. He was going to shout to the bus driver. Make the bus wait. Make the driver stop and see. Maybe his shitty friends will hear and actually do something nice for him once. He was so close. Luck was on his side after all.  
But he has never been so wrong.

"Shi—"

The blonde came tumbling with his big duffel bag. He groaned in pain, before quickly snapping his neck up to see the bus he was chasing was driving away from the hotel. "WAIT!" He shouted, scrambling to the door. It was no use, nobody heard him. The bus pulled away from the blonde’s view, unbelievable. Newt ran out of the hotel door, staring at the bus that was supposed to take him home. He didn’t even bother running to it, knowing that it is impossible with his limp. Giving up, the boy walked back sadly into the hotel lobby to collect his stuff.

Back in the lobby, the commotion caused by his actions was just seeping into the spacious entrance of the hotel. He stared grimly at the ruckus. One of the perfectly lined sofa was askew, some bags got knocked down from god knows when (Newt doesn’t remember, all he remember was that he _missed his fucking bus_ ), and his duffel bag sitting nicely among scattered stuff and an Asian Woman who was patiently collecting what appeared to be… bottles of sauce? He probably tripped over that woman's bag in his haste of getting to his bus.

Newt stepped closer to the Asian Woman, guilt decided to nest in his chest as he saw about a dozen bottles of sauce that was knocked over from their neat stack in a bag. He did not realize how selfish he was for trashing the lobby like that. But then again he was in the brink of getting stranded far, far away from California.

(He stopped calling it “home” long ago. Home is where his sister Sara is, not some glamorous west coast city filled with everything he despise)

“Excuse me,” he said, when he was close enough for the woman to hear him. “Let me help you, ma’am. Sorry for knocking these over.” It was true. It’s not like he intended to wreck a hotel lobby or something. Newt crouched next to her and started gathering bottles without waiting for her response. Much to his pleasure, the woman flashed a beautiful smile and nodded. “It is okay. Bag was opened on the sofa. My mistake.” Her voice was thick with accent, almost like Newt’s own. But her accent was different; it was crispy with an edge. The boy took a wild guess and say in his mind that it is South East Asian. He helped the Asian Woman pick up her sauce. Turns out they were spicy sauce, judging by the apparent chili icon and flaming color. And there were like, 12 of them? “Korean hot sauce.” She said, grinning from ear to ear. “My son likes them. Got them from Korea. You like?” Newt shrugged, he wasn’t a huge fan of spices, but tasting new exotic food is always fun, right? He remembered his trip with Sara to a small Thai restaurant, where they downed like 3 gallons of water each because of the spicy noodles. Suddenly Newt didn’t want to taste the lady’s hot sauce anymore.

“You lost?” she asked again, snapping Newt back to reality. “I saw bus, you yelling. Bus left you?” Her voice was careful, soft even.

“Yeah, I was late. The bus left me.” was all the explanation Newt could offer her. He’s a stupid blond British kid who cannot wake up on time. Also, he has the worst luck.

Much to his surprise, the woman gasped. “All alone? Mom? Dad?” She even stopped packing her bottles.

“Uhh, yeah. I’m on a school trip.” She was tilting her head, as if she needed more explanation. “A trip with school? So like, yeah, no parents.” Newt can tell that she was surprised yet again. Do they not have this kind of thing in Asia?

“Nowhere to stay?” Newt answered with a slight shake of his head. He hasn’t even thought about that yet and now the reality downed him. He shook his head more, making sure she (and he himself) gets it that he was stranded.

Surprisingly, the Asian Woman stood up. From Newt’s spot on the floor he saw determination on her eyes. “Take your bag. You go my house tonight.” And all Newt can muster up in his head was _what the fuck man_. He weighed the pros and cons of taking the woman’s invitation. _Pros: a roof over your fucking head, possibly some food, and maybe she can show me a bus station._ He scrunched his nose when he thought about going home. _Cons: might be a serial killer with twelve hot sauces._

“Come come, take bag. House not far, come on.” Suddenly she was pulling Newt up onto his feet and _wow this lady is strong_. Newt shrugged, deciding that if she is a serial killer, she’s half his height and he can take her. The Asian Lady dragged Newt towards his duffel and nodded at it, making Newt scramble forward to take it. _She must be a very powerful mother_ , Newt thought. With that kind of authority, her kids must’ve fear her and love her so much. He obediently followed the shorter lady out into the parking lot, nodded apologetically towards the hotel manager. He just remembered the rest of the shit he knocked over in the haste of getting to the bus. Oh well, it’s not like somebody died. In the parking lot there was a tiny VW beetle that suits The Asian Woman very well. She unlocked the tiny car and put all of her belonging in the back. “Call me Mrs. Park.” She said, sliding into the driver seat.

“O-oh? I’m Newt.” He said groggily, before squeezing himself in. Sometimes Newt hates his height, he blames his too long legs that was crunched uncomfortably under the dashboard. He buckled his seatbelt, and Mrs. Park started to drive away. This better be a short drive.

\---

On the way, Newt learns a lot of things from Mrs. Park’s stories. Sure they were in broken English and sometimes there are Korean slipped in here and there (he learned that Mrs. Park is native Korean and she married an American man here in the states), but it was all good. Stories about how life is out here in the small town, how the prices went over the roof, and basically anything that she can think of is rolling off her tongue like water pouring out of a sink. Newt can already tell that the Korean woman likes to talk, but also very careful in keeping her personal life a secret by steering away from the topic of his husband when they were talking about cars. In exchange, Newt told her about England and how they all moved here due to his father’s job. He told her about studying meds, his house, his favorite beach, and Sara. The car ride lasted for about 25 minutes, enough to give Newt a slight cramp. Mrs. Park laughed at that, saying that Newt can put his legs up if it’s starting to hurt. When they were getting closer to the town, the topic of Mrs. Park’s son was their main discussion.

“Minho is never home.” She said, sounding annoyed. “He drive all the time, everywhere. His home is old pick up. He was gone for 3 months, he was in Canada!” At the end of the sentence she added a tired sigh. “I want Minho to stay. Minho never there for me. All he do is go around the world. Very worried.” Newt nodded at her explanation, a frown forming on his lips. “He just got back. He is home now. Hopefully he will stay home, get a job. Driving around costs money. Need real job.” From what he has heard, Mrs. Park has a very awful son. How can this Minho guy do such thing? What kind of crazy man drives around for three months and end up in Canada? Besides, he has an amazing woman as a mother worrying for him in this small town.

(Newt realizes that he was being a hypocrite, reminded that he himself doesn’t really want to go home. He blames it on the lack of “amazing woman as a mother worrying for him” in his life)

“But he nice.” Mrs. Park sounded so fond this time, Newt wasn’t sure if they are still talking about Minho. “Doesn’t party, doesn’t bring girls home. When he is home, Minho gives me necklace, ring, vase. Said it was exotic. Said he found them and thought of me. When he is home he drive me to grocery shop. He work a little, sometimes cooks too.” She smiled. The sun was setting around them, giving a very beautiful orange filter to the whole scene. Newt listened more carefully, realizing that this memory is what Mrs. Park hold on to when her son is away. “When he is home, room is messy. House is messy. Kitchen is messy. But at least he is home. After three weeks Minho leaves again.” She ended the story with a frown, quite matching to Newt’s own. Silence fell over the car, as it drives into the darker and darker horizon. Outside, stores began to turn on their lamps and signs. New saw a cozy diner and a bakery, and he realized how alive the city is despite of being so small. Soon they pulled into a small neighborhood, and soon into the Park Family’s driveway.

“Here is home.” Mrs. Park said, unbuckling her seatbelt. “Welcome to my home.” She giggled, before exiting and getting her stuff from the back seat. Newt followed her and helped with one of her bags. They walked towards the door, and before she can open it, the door burst open. An Asian guy around the blond boy’s height —Minho, Newt guessed— stands there looking worried. He let out a relieved sigh and scooped Mrs. Park into a hug.

“Eomma! Where were you? I arrived yesterday and you weren’t here god I was so worried I called Auntie Yoo Ri!” He let out a small laugh, letting go of his mother and taking all of her bags into his arms. “Come on, Eomma. I made fusion ramen! Well it’s just instant ramen with stuff but still it’s great! I learned how to do it from a college kid in—“

“Minho.” Mrs. Park said sternly, making Newt shiver. See? She has a lot of authority, seeing Minho instantly stopping and turning around. His dark eyes landed on Newt. He scanned the boy up and down, as if looking for a written explanation about who the heck is this. “Minho, this is Newt. He was lost, so I invite him.” Mrs. Park nodded at Newt, who immediately waved and threw in an awkward grin. He can see that Minho was confused, but besides that, the boy was unreadable. Newt prayed that Minho won’t throw him out in the streets.

“Oh, hey. I’m Minho.” He walked to Newt, still scanning him from top to bottom.

“Newt.”

“Yeah, I know.” Well that was kind of rude?

Minho nodded at him before going back to his mum, said that he’ll put the stuff in and make dinner. Mrs. Park said something about mixing up her sauces, before coming into her house. She stopped when she realized that Newt was still frozen on the porch, so she walked back outside and pulled him in while mumbling about Americans.

The inside of her house was not breathtaking, but it has a cozy ambience to it. The living room was small, only one big sofa and one small one with a wooden coffee table and TV across of the big sofa. On the wall above the big sofa was a picture of a woman and a small boy, probably taken when Minho was 5. It was a very small space, meaning that they have to block the vision from the sofa to the TV if they want to make it into the kitchen, where Minho was serving dinner. Newt guessed the two rooms he saw was Minho’s and Mrs. Park’s. There is no way that they would have a guest room. Newt sighed and dropped his duffel on the couch, before following the sweet smell of food.

In the kitchen, Minho was preparing something that Newt guessed as ramen with his own little twist of kimchi and beef and some kind of Korean sauce. “Newt! Come here, sit!” Mrs. Park waved excitedly, gesturing at the spare chair. Minho was facing the counter, and Newt is forever thankful for the chance of slipping out of his judging stare. He pulled the chair and sat, when Minho turned around with two bowls of noodles. One for his mum, and one for him. He delivered the third bowl fast enough before Newt could say anything to Mrs. Park. They say their prayers (Mrs. Park insisted) and began eating Minho’s noodle. Turns out it was a great meal. The kimchi added a punch to it and of course the sweet savory sauce helped the dish to make a statement too. It was a delicious food and Newt was determined to devour it down to every last drop of broth.

“So, eomma, how was Korea?” Minho asked, opening the conversation.

“Great, great. I met Uncle Jimin, He raise cows now.” She laughed at her own sentence. “Minguk and Hyeon Ki was getting so big. They were riding bikes!” Newt listened closely, smiling when Mrs. Park turned at him with an excited grin. “The twins are so energetic now!”

“Oh that was great!” Minho laughed. “And the flight back?”

“Terrible. Terrible flight. Made me very tired. Had to rest in the hotel before continuing driving. Too late at night, too tired.”

“You could’ve asked me to come get you, Eomma.” Mrs. Park laughed at this.

“How should I know you’re here? Last time I asked, you were at Arizona.” She continued laughing while Minho pouted at her. Newt laughed too, politely. “I didn’t read your text until this morning, sorry Min. Oh and I met Newt this afternoon!” She smiled proudly, patting Newt’s shoulder.

“Yeah, what’s the story to that?” Minho asked, eyeing Newt suspiciously.

“He was running through lobby. Very panicked. Knocked down my bag! My sauce!” She laughed. “Newt was late, the bus left him. So I helped him.”

“Yeah but why?” Newt felt a pang of hurt from Minho’s words.

“Minho!” Both boys jumped at the sound of Mrs. Park’s scolding. “Don’t be rude. You know how it feels to be lost. To not have a roof.” She said sharply. Newt saw Minho hanging his head low, and he wondered what this family had gone through to get into this cozy little house. “Tomorrow you drive him home, no buts. No driving aimlessly. You drive him home, you go home, get a job. Understand?” The Asian boy looked offended. He glared at Newt, pointedly blaming him for his mom’s ultimatum. “And be polite. Understand, Minho?”

“Yes mom.” He said obediently. “So Newt,” The said boy was surprised that Minho turned his attention towards him. “Where is your home?”

 _Nowhere._ “California.”

“Woah that’s amazing!” Minho looked amazed. Or fake amazed. Whichever. “Must’ve cost a lot to go on a trip here. Who would’ve want to visit the dreadful desert right?” Newt opened his mouth, only to be cut by Minho again. “How’s life in the west coast?”

 _Dreadful, boring, disgusting._ “Same old thing, just warmer and a lot of beach I guess.” Newt tried to make a joke. Mrs. Park laughed, so he didn’t really fail at that.

“Do you go to college there, Newt?”

Minho’s questions were starting to make Newt feel uncomfortable. “Uh, yeah. I’m studying meds.”

“Cool, cool.” He said, leaning back on his chair. “So, basically perfect glamorous life in the West Coast? Blowing dad’s money and all in that fancy college. How’s partying there? A lot of booze that you buy with daddy’s money?” His words were dripping with venom. Newt was taken aback by the sudden outburst. He saw Mrs. Park shooting a warning look at her son but Minho won’t budge. He leaned forward towards Newt, who was confused. “Bet you don’t have to worry about rent or feeding yourself for the next month huh? What a life you’re leading, princess.” He spat the last word out like its poison.

“Minho!”

“I’m washing the dishes.” He stood up, taking all of the bowls with him. “Go sleep in the couch or something, princess.” By the time Minho reached the sink, Mrs. Park stood up and started throwing a lot of angry Korean at him. Newt stood up and moved out of the kitchen, and further away into the porch when he heard Minho arguing back in Korean. He figured that leaving this family to quarrel is the best move he has. He sat on the porch, zipping up his hoodie in desperate attempt of fighting the cold.

What did he have gotten himself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? That wasn't so bad was it? Also, Minho didn't speak korean to his mom bc i figured with the amount of traveling and meeting up with different people in his life, he completely lost his accent and has grown accustomed to speaking in english. he can still speak korean if anyone is wondering. special thanks to my bub pissedofsandwich for juicing out my ideas! Anyways, check me out on tumblr newtpuppy if you wanna see the photoset of this fic or talk about minewt.


	2. Don't Worry, Just Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Minho is an asshole and Newt is not a princess

The next day started early in the little home of The Park Family. It was 5 AM, far too early to start a journey according to both of the teenage boys. Minho was literally dragged out of bed by his mother while Newt was falling asleep on the dining table, with his breakfast untouched and a fork on his hand. Mrs. Park dropped Minho on the opposite chair and smacked both of their heads. Said that young people must be able to wake up early and do their activities early too. Said that young people must have enough energy to build the world, even if they have to start at 5 AM in the morning. Minho mumbled something about the world being able to wait until 10, and he got another smack in the head. They eat their breakfast and Newt offered to make some coffee (because seriously, Minho looked like he was sleeping with his eyes opened) and the brunet actually said yes. Newt considered this a win. Of course he still has these mixed feelings about Minho after he called Newt princess last night. But if he was going to be stuck with Minho until they reach California, he better get on the boy’s good side. You know, so he won’t leave him in the middle of nowhere. Stranded. _Again._

 The two was standing on the porch, rubbing their eyes sleepily and yawning every twenty seconds or so while Mrs. Park fussed about their supplies for the road trip. To Newt, having someone worry about him like that was heart-warming. His own mother doesn’t even bat an eye when he said he’s going to be gone for a week. She simply states that she will give Newt extra money to prepare his trip. No goodbyes, no drives into the local grocery store to buy things like toothbrush or some snacks. Just another stoic conversation that carried out like one of her meetings. “You shouldn’t be bothered about this.” She once said, on an early morning which Newt especially woke up early for. “I work for you, Isaac. For the well being of you, and Sara.” She didn’t let her son respond, already rushing to her car with all the files and work things Newt didn’t understand at the age of eight. He shouted “I love you, Mom!” because well, he does love his mom. Besides, all of his friends do it when their mom drops them off from school. He never got to do that, he always arrive by the school bus.

She returned it by driving away.

“Min-bin! Carry some more water. Stay hydrated!”

Newt snapped back to reality, before his lips quirked up into a smirk. “Min-bin?” he asked, stifling a laugh. Minho threw a death glare at him, while Mrs. Park perked up at the question.

“When Min was small he cannot say Minho. Says only Min. I teach him say Minho. He said Min-bin instead!” She laughs cheerfully, pinching Minho’s cheek. Newt laughed too, but more because of the hilariousness of the nickname. Oh well, the boy deserved some shit from Newt anyways. He finished his laughter fit, only to find Minho looking at him like he was going to murder the blond boy. Minho looked like he was going to snap at Newt, if Mrs. Park hadn’t ushered the boys towards Minho’s pick up behind her VW, saying that it’s getting late (6.30 AM, what is wrong with her?). They all walked to the rusty pickup, and Mrs. Park bid them farewell. She said something about having to go to work, kissed Minho’s cheek and mumbled something in Korean, before she hopped into her own car. As the small VW beetle drove off, Newt realized that his last line of defense against Minho Park just drove away. _Oh well, this ought to be fun_.

“Hey, get your sorry ass in the pickup if you’re done smiling to yourself, princess.” Minho sneered, already starting the engine like he was going to leave Newt behind. The taller boy sighed. _This is gonna be a long ride home._

\---

“Minho.”

No response.

“Minho, please.”

Still nothing.

“Minho this is ridiculous! What are you? Twelve?”

“Yeah, on a scale from one to ten.” He smirked triumphantly. “You’re probably a four.”

They were not really far from the town. In fact, they just drove past the hotel Newt was staying at just one night ago. Minho insisted that they need to make a good start and bought both of them big sized soda and some spicy wings. Little did Newt know, it was all just a trap made by the devil that is Minho Park. The Asian barely eat any, reasoning that he’s driving and an oily steering wheel is a gross steering wheel. Since there was no way in hell that Newt would feed him the food, he ate most of the content of the tiny paper box. Soon enough he was cursing every single spices in the world and gulping his soda. Minho laughed at him, especially when he got a brain freeze for it. That was when Newt realizes that it was all a joke. “Oh ha-ha Minho, what a funny sight to see someone else suffer.” He deadpanned, and Minho just cackled. Newt sighed and sinks back in his seat, only to jolt back up after a good 10 minutes. The soda has taken a nice trip into his bladder.

Any logical person would stop at a gas station or something, right? But not Minho. He’s a devil. Mainly the reason why Newt was yelling at him.

“Minho seriously pull over.” He pleaded, watching as they passed yet another restaurant. “I need to go.”

Minho hummed something that sounds like All the Small Things, and Newt groaned.

“MINHO I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON’T STOP AT THE NEXT TOILET I WILL PEE ALL OVER YOU.” And Minho burst out into laughter.

“What’s that princess? You’re threatening me? That’s so improper of you!” he faked gasp. Newt curled up into a ball and flipped him off.

“Just pull over. There’s a gas station coming up. Please.” He sounded weak, and it’s embarrassing how holding a pee can break down all of the big talk he build to defend himself from Minho.

“Nah, princess. You’ll get to pee on my spot, not a lousy station.” He stifled a laugh. “Can’t have royalty peeing in some dirty toilet right?

Newt just sighed, hoping that this spot is not really far off.

Turns out, it’s not.

Minho drove past the gas station, only to stop at the side of the huge road with open fields on both sides. He smiled sweetly to Newt, who looked at him in horror. Then, as if he can read Newt’s mind, Minho unlocked the doors.

“You’re kidding me.” Newt looked at him in disbelief. Minho’s smile turned into a mischievous grin.

“You said you need to pee.”

“Yeah but not on the side of a bloody road!” as if to emphasize, a car drove past them loudly. It wasn’t that busy of a road, but anyone who past them will definitely see the blond doing his business.

“Aw, too bad. The next gas station is a mile away.”

“Just go back to the last one.” The Asian raised one finger at this.

“The only way we’re heading is forward, princess.” He said it wisely, like some kind of spiritual guru. Minho smirked at the end. “Well? Are we going to wait for the next station? Princess can’t handle this?”

Newt just grumbled and unbuckled his seat belt. It was ridiculous, and Minho was being ridiculous. He didn’t know if it was revenge for him laughing at Minho’s nickname, or the boy’s apparent distaste for privileges. Or California. Or richness. Or Newt. He silently wished for it to be the first one. As much as Newt hates California, he had to admit that he has it easy, moving in from London and having enough money to sustain his lifestyle (even though it’s not much of a lifestyle. Minho thinks it’s all about parties and girls and blowing off money. It’s not. A lot less party and girls, but more med books and 2 AM scavenger hunt at the local grocery shop in search of their strongest coffee). All his life nobody has hated him for something he didn’t do or cannot change. Being the British transfer student at high school easily made Isaac Newton everyone’s favorite new kid with his fancy accent and stereotypical British outfit (well he can’t really transform his wardrobe from sweaters for fending off London’s cold air into t-shirts and shorts for California’s beach vibes overnight). Newt made a wild guess and assumed that The Park Family has it hard before, being Asian in a small city and all. It’s sad how he’s an immigrant and he’s doing fine living in the states while Minho was _born_ in the states but has to struggle because of his ethnicity.

He shrugged the thoughts away and did his business, still hoping that Minho won’t hate him.

A car drove by and some creepy old man honked at Newt, making Minho laugh loud enough for the pissed off blond to hear.

“Ready to go, princess?” Minho asked when Newt climbed into the pickup.

“Stop that.”

“What?”

“Calling me princess.” Newt said, holding a stern look on the Asian who was starting his engine again. “I’m not a girl, or a princess. Stop calling me that.” Minho snorted at the request, making a turn to the right. West coast is at the end of the road they were in. Or not? Newt doesn’t really know his way around. So in a way, he was going wherever Minho decided to take him. Somehow he was okay with that.

“Well what do you want me to call you?” Minho actually sounded sincere.

“Newt. It’s my fucking name.”

“Oh, okay.” The Asian focused back to the road, merging into the highway. “Princess Newt.” He smirked. Newt threw a tissue box at him. Amazing how someone could cram up all the asshole-ness and pranks and name calling into a 3 hours drive. And to think they have at least 20 more hours together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How is it so far? I was kinda confused on how to write this because I haven't been to the states so I cannot illustrate the roadtrip from texas (yes minho is from texas, somewhere near houston) to LA :( if anyone can help me hit me up here or at tumblr newtpuppy. leave comments and kudos guys ily <3


	3. Who Am I? Invisible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into Minho's life is like taking a picture without focusing the camera lens

They reached San Antonio shortly after the pee accident. They’re supposed to head north before they reached the heart of the city and continue driving to California from then. Or at least, that’s what Newt read on Google. Google also said that it will take roughly 24 hours to reach California, which is good. He doesn’t want to spend any more time with Minho Park.

“Hey princess, pass me the jerky will ya?”

Newt rolled his eyes and continued nibbling on the meat. See? Who could stand this annoying piece of shit? No wonder his best friend is the pickup truck. Minho repeated his request, but he met no response. It was a childish decision, but Newt won’t respond to Minho unless the Asian teen calls him by his real name. No more of that “princess Newt” nickname. So far he had ignored the driver’s request for water, jerky, and when he asked Newt to check his bag for stuff. By now Minho would’ve guessed how Newt intentionally ignores him whenever he calls the British teen princess, unless Minho is a whole new degree of stupid. Judging from his annoyed grunt, Newt guessed that Minho is not giving up any time soon.

They missed the turn to north.

“Hey, hey, hold up.” Newt sat up straight, glancing back at the right turn they just drove by. “Why did you exit? We’re going to lose a lot of time if we drive through the city.”

“Oh so you can talk.” Minho deadpanned, making Newt want to tear his own hair out.

“You missed the bloody turn you idiot.” He hissed. If that was another one of Minho’s stupid pranks, he will end up with a blue eye.

“I don’t miss turns when I drive.” He sing sang.

“You just did.”

“No I didn’t, it was intentional.” Newt wanted to scream at this. “San Antonio has the sickest river walk, maybe you should try it.”

“Maybe you should try to reach California faster.”

“Nah, maybe we should stay the night.” Minho sounds challenging, and Newt lost it.

“Stay the night?! We haven’t even reached half way! You’re wasting time Minho, and need I remind you that I have to go _home_?”

“And need I remind you that because of you fancy ass Brit boy showed up on my porch, I have to drive you across the country?” Minho sounded angry; enough to shake the Brit’s ground but not enough to send Newt cowering to the corner. “Need I remind you that after all this I have to drive all the way back home and _find a job?_ This might be my last freedom, princess, and I will have this trip my way.” He growled the last words out. “If you don’t like my route, fine! Go ahead and find a bus or something, see if I give any fuck.”

Minho’s outburst slapped Newt in the face, realizing that Minho was forced on this trip (maybe as a punishment or something) and he probably doesn’t like it more than Newt like the trip. They are strangers, and although Minho must’ve been familiar with encountering strangers, here’s a pretty safe bet that Minho never had to drive one across the states. He never realizes how he indirectly ripped Minho’s freedom by showing up on his front door. For all he knows, maybe Minho already to take off somewhere else. Or maybe he had signed up for a part time job to raise enough money for his next impulsive trip like in Mrs. Park’s story. Either way, Minho never wanted him in his near future, or any type of future. This trip wasn’t only about getting him home, he wasn’t the only one in the pickup yet he acts like it’s all about getting home while Minho’s ideal life was crumbling away. Newt gulped at the thought. _Another life you fucked up huh, Newton?_

They approached the heart of the city sometime around 12, and the beaten up truck immediately went to the first restaurant in sight. It was a taco place, busy with families who in any other occasion Newt would find annoying with their loud kids and moms trying to get them in control, but at that moment he wished that their screaming would drown the tension between him and his travel companion. Minho was ignoring his presence, speeding towards the counter without even glancing back at Newt. _I deserve it, I guess._ He thought as he watched the Asian ordered his lunch _._ Minho removed himself from the counter almost as fast as he got there, hurrying back to his car. Newt decided to order a takeout and eat at the truck, hoping to strike a conversation and a sorry.

Outside, he saw Minho already jumped into the back of the truck and devour his lunch there, making Newt wonder how many time had he done that before. He wondered is it the road that Minho found as a form of home, or is it this pickup. He entered the passenger seat and ate his taco, deciding that he would have to encounter the anger of Minho Park after lunch. That boy need some time on his own, and it is not wise to poke at raw boiling anger. Newt has to wait until he had cooled down, until he is safe to touch and to say sorry without ending up dead at the side of the road.

\---

Turns out, Minho decided that their after lunch activity will be sightseeing. He drove silently to the local park and parked there, immediately taking off after telling Newt to meet him back at 3. Being left behind, Newt huffed and decided to take a walk of his own, considering he got roughly two hours at hand.

The park was actually quite beautiful. Still, Newt would enjoy it more if he wasn’t stranded with a stranger and fighting with the said stranger. Suddenly he remembered that he never really informed anyone about his whereabouts. The blond sat at one of the bench near the lake and took out his phone. The commotion since yesterday had kept him away from the little gadget, not that he’s always glued to it anyways (he doesn’t really like texting. Twitter and facebook is not really an option either, clogging up his phone’s memory and preventing him from downloading more e-books into it. It’s hard enough to fit all his songs and books into a 32GB gadget without the unnecessary social media apps). He pressed the on button, only to find numerous texts from Sara.

Sara | yesterday, 14.00

      When will you arrive here I need you and your license to go to the beach

Sara | yesterday, 16.00

      Ok wtf alby already arrived like 30 mins ago im looking at him going out with ben like     right now where tf are you

Sara | yesterday, 16.30

      YOU GOT LEFT BEHIND BY YOUR BUS

      WHAT ARE YOU? 5?

      ARE YOU EVEN THE OLDER SIBLING GOD IM GETTING A REFUND

Sara | yesterday, 19.00

      Newt don’t be dead pls reply

      You prolly turned off your phone

      Wake up and get used to gadgets grandpa

Sara | today, 8.00

      Are you alive

Newt stared grimly at his phone. Sara was worried. God, of course she was. In the middle of the jungle that is California, they only have each other. They are each other’s safe haven, and Newt felt selfish for not telling Sara what happened. The British teen immediately type out a paragraph on what had happened in the past 24 hours, plus another paragraph filled with apologies. And of course being the teenage queen that she is, Sara responded almost immediately.

Sara | today, 13.10

      Boo you whore

Newt | sent, 13.11

      What a shame, you’re related to a whore

Sara | today, 13.13

      God that was a mean girl reference wake up grandpa

      Btw you should prolly turn off ur phone again

Newt | sent, 13.15

      Why are you getting rid of me

Sara | today, 13.16

      You left your charger with me you idiot

      Save your battery for emergencies or something

Newt cursed at this, immediately reminded of how he shares charger with Sara since she broke hers. Affording a new one is just too much work, according to the younger girl. So she opted for stealing Newt’s. They decided to share, and also decided to leave the charger home at all cost when one of them is going away for more than a day. During the trip, charging wasn’t a big problem since his friend Alby has the same phone as him. Now? He doubted that Minho has the same phone, or willing to share the charger with him. Newt sighed and turned his phone off, deciding that he will have to ask Minho later. Now, he needed to apologize.

Eventually, the blond resumed his walk. And eventually, he found his travel partner. Minho was sitting near the lake, looking into the far distance but not really at anything. Like he was looking at something beyond the horizon, beyond all the things displayed in front of him in a very beautiful scenery. In silence and deep in thoughts, Minho Park looked calm. He looked like he belongs there, instead of looking like a wanderer. He looked like he was soaking in all of San Antonio, as if that was the last time he will be sitting in that park, in one of his impulsive adventures. Minho Park looked nicer like that; Newt decided that he likes calm Minho. Likes how his strong features were softer, no snappy comments, and no insults. Just existing beside the lake like it was the most beautiful thing he could do at that moment.

Minho Park looked like he belongs in that scenery, in that scene.

“Hey.”

Instead of a snarky “fuck off” Newt had expected, Minho turned at him slowly. As if all their quarrels never happened. It was weird, like having an elephant in the room. Newt hates to break the moment, but he has to address the problem. He handed Minho the chocolate ice cream he bought from the small stand behind them. Minho took the ice cream, and Newt took the gesture as an invitation to sit with him.

“Hey,” Newt tried again. “I want to apologize for… what I did. I’m such a burden to you and I am not in the place to complain about your plans. I’m sorry.” The words were rehearsed, two or three times in front of the chocolate ice cream cone when the nice ice cream lady handed it to him. It sounded so rehearsed, so stiff, but every word on it were true and sincere.

“Not your fault. It’s all cool.” Minho replied, emotions unreadable as he bit into the ice cream. Silence fell between them.

“It’s a nice park.” Newt mumbled, almost to himself rather than to Minho. “You were right. It’s very beautiful.”

Minho chuckled, taking another bite from the cone. Newt made a mental note to buy Minho the big cone next time he’s buying him ice cream, since the Asian literally inhale the dairy product in zero point seconds. “Of course I’m right. I’ve been here a few times. Actually, more than a few. This park has something that always ground me when I’m too busy trying to fly away.”

“Fly away?”

“Yeah, I always go here before I go on a drive somewhere far. Sets the mood right, I don’t know. It’s something.”

“Why do you leave so much?” The question flew from his mouth, unrestrained. He wanted to know. Needed to know, actually. Curiosity was starting to fill Newt up to the brim and he needed to pour some out.

“Why do I leave? Depends on what do you mean. Newt, why do Romeo leaves Juliet? Why does he leave only to come back and find her dead body? Why does Patroclus leave and get killed, only for Achilles to cry over him? Gods come down time to time and make love with the mortals, but they come and go like the wind, and mortals are nothing short of an arousal transit. There are so many reasons why people leave, princess, to which are you referring?” Minho was looking at Newt straight in the eye when he finished the short speech, and suddenly Newt felt like he had never met Minho before. His words had no emotions latched to it, even the insult lacked the usual bite it got dangling on. Minho looked broken, but not sad. Angry, but not showing any kind of aggression. He was everything and nothing at the same time, and Newt didn’t know how to handle that besides holding his gaze fixed towards Minho.

“Leaving sounds like such a negative thing, to add distance between you and the one you love. But tell you what, Newt, distance only exists in men’s imagination. Completely man made, completely unreal yet we make it out like something that keeps people apart, which tears away happiness. Distance does not apply to gods, and I’d like to live my life without being burdened with how many kilometers I had put between me and my mom. If mankind wants to earn some kind of control on life, they made a wrong move by making distance. I’d like to live like the gods, you get? Without any numbers attached.”

Silence doused the two teens again, and Newt felt more unanswered questions came bubbling up inside him. Minho didn’t answer the question the way Newt had expected him to, yet the answer lingers in the blond’s brain even after there was nothing said from Minho.

“We should probably get going, it’s almost 4.” Minho suddenly stood up, crumpling the tissue that had came along with the ice cream. “Cheap hotels won’t be having anymore free rooms if we don’t leave now.” Newt followed the Asian teen, but silently wishing that their time is not limited so he can explore Minho more. He followed his companion, who had already walking to the parking lot. Maybe he’ll get more glimpses of Minho’s life if he do this right.

“Keep up with me, will ya Newt?” The words should’ve sound offensive, but there was no bite to it. The called boy was shocked. Minho sounds like someone else without his usual snark in every word. More importantly, he just called Newt by his name. Newt must’ve smiled wider than what he intended, because Minho rolled his eyes at him. “Wipe that stupid grin off, princess. We’re losing daylight here.”

For the first time since he got stranded, Newt actually laughed. There was something about the mixture of Minho’s lack of sass and the heartfelt speech he just made that made Newt breathe a little easier. For once, he forgot about being lost. Heck, at that moment he barely knew what is California. Nothing else matters after he settled his relationship with the Asian. Minho raised his eyebrow at this and turned around, mumbling something about city boys. Newt didn’t care. Minho Park finally stops attacking him with every word that flew out of his mouth, and Isaac Newton couldn’t be any happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at life so much ugh sorry this is ugly. Also the song fits the mood especially on the "who am i? who am i? invisible" part. It kind of put the same hollow grey feeling inside me idk maybe I'm weird. if you have any suggestion for this chapter's song please leave it on the comment section below. hit me up on tumblr newtpuppy im thirsty for friendship and minewt.
> 
> edit: the first part of Minho's speech is written by my bae pissedofsandwich! shes bomb af and she has a minewt fic in progress you should check her out


	4. Ain't it good to be on your own?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4 hours of driving is not match for Minho Park and his trusty pickup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I've been busy with school but I hope I can finish this with three more chapters! comment your opinion abt this chapter bc i'm considering to edit this later so tell me what you think! title is from paramore's ain't it fun. shout out to pissedofsandwich who just kicked hepatitis square in the ass!

Turns out, the “cheap hotel” Minho talked about only had one room left.

And somehow, they always end up tie in rock paper scissors.

“C’mon, one more time.” Minho said, trying to buy more time before the receptionist calls security or something. Newt rolled his eyes, trying not to say Minho had claimed that since the seventh rock-paper-scissors. But of course, twelfth time’s the charm right?

Out came two scissors.

“Dude how hard it is to pick something _different_ from me?” The Asian groaned. From his peripheral vision he can see the tired look of the receptionist.

“I don’t know, you tell me.” Newt deadpanned. “ _Dude.”_ He smirked when Minho visibly cringed at his use of the American slang. The word _dude_ and Newt’s English accent didn’t add up very well, making a hideous offspring that sounds made up and well, _gross._ Minho rolled his eyes at that and scrunched his eyebrows together, thinking about their next move. Newt sighed, actually putting sleeping on the pavements in the consideration. That night wasn’t the ideal we-resolved-our-problems-and-now-best-buds situation. Although Newt didn’t really expects to be all chummy with Minho after all that big talk in the park.

“Boys, I’m sorry. I have a line waiting behind you now so if you can move your little bickering somewhere else, I’d be delighted.” The sweet sound of Ms. Receptionist broke their little brainstorm session, sending them out of the hotel lobby while Ms. Receptionist beamed her programmed smile. The two teenage boys has no other option than to leave.

(The suburban white mom behind them looked like she was seriously considering to murder Newt and Minho with a baking tray. Of course, this is Minho’s exaggerated depiction that Newt had rolled his eyes upon hearing)

“We can look for other hotels? I saw some on our way here.” Newt suggested, and Minho clicked his tongue, looking into the far horizon of San Antonio.

“Or, we push our boundaries.” He said, more to himself. The Asian man tilted his head to Newt. “Tell me you drive?”

When Newt nodded, a huge smirk bloomed on Minho’s lips.

\--

It was 6 pm when Minho decided to keep driving west.

“I’m used to driving, so it should be fine.” He tried to assure Newt, who was looking at him with the look of utter horror. “Here, I can surely endure four to five hours more behind the wheel. By that time we’ll probably be in Fort Stockton.” They were sitting on the back of Minho’s pick up, maps splayed open and flashlights on just in case the night sneak up on them. Despite Minho’s reassuring words and how _close_ Fort Stockton is to San Antonio on the map, Newt was still thinking that Minho wants to end up crashing somewhere in between of the small dots. “We’ll find a place to crash, and the next morning you can drive for three hours to El Paso. Think you can do that?”

“Four hours driving?! You’ll kill us!” Newt was loud enough for the other occupant of the parking lot to turn towards him. Minho pinched the bridge of his nose.

“No, Newt. I’m not going to kill us. Do you think 4 hours of driving will bring me down? Newt, this baby,” He patted his pickup with pride. “had been to _Canada_. If you think Fort Stockton is too much for us then I feel insulted.” The taller blond sighed, so Minho continued. “Trust me, princess. I’m not gonna put you in any danger. We’ll get you home.”

Somehow, the mix of darkening sky and the stench of exhaust from the back of a rusty pickup made Newt believe each word.

Minho nodded, seeing his companion had agreed to his plan. He jumped out of the pickup and slide into the driver seat with ease, and Newt followed into the passenger seat. And if Minho saw uneasiness on Newt, he didn’t say a thing.

\--

“Are you _sure_ you’re not tired?” Newt asked, for the umpteenth time. “If you fell asleep we’ll both die.”

“For fuck sake it’s like what, 8 pm? I’m not a baby!” Minho laughed, cranking the radio up. Newt scrunched his nose at the new pop hit that filled the pickup. “What? You don’t like this?”

“Not really what I listen to every day.”

“Of course. What do you listen to? Classical music? Moonlight Sonata?” Minho snorted. “I forgot I’m talking to a pretentious brat.”

“Pretentious? What about you and all of your indie rock CDs?” Newt laughed, pointing at Minho’s CD collection. Most of those Newt can’t even read through the intricate logo, but judging from the album art it must be rock. The brit doesn’t really get it. He likes it better when he can understand what the singer is singing, and the loud guitars and screams blaring from her sister's room back in their house doesn't fall into that category. Sara loves rock music, especially punk rock. More often than he likes, Newt had been dragged into those kind of concerts because Sara needs a legal guardian. Honestly, Sara’s 18th birthday cannot come anymore sooner. He had enough of getting stuck in a mosh pit or getting bras dropped onto his head because the owner has a very lame aim. But then again, seeing her sister alone in the crowd full of older men running in a circle to the beat of a loud song is pretty scary. Will Sara be able to take care of herself without Newt? When she’s 18, she can literally do whatever she wants.

She can run away. Like she always said. Pack her bags, get the car, and leave their dreadful empty house behind.

And Newt can, too. Considering he was 19 and considered as a mature adult. Heck, they can run away together from their stupid California life.

The thought of never coming back to California both excites him, and scare him. What if he cannot survive out there? But what’s the worst that could happen? Minho has been on the road since years ago, probably since he got his license. He doesn’t look like he gets into a lot of trouble. If Minho can do it, why can’t he?

“Hey Min,” he called, absent mindedly. “how long have you been on the road?”

The question took Minho by surprise, but it didn’t take long before he gained his composure and answered. “Two years-ish? I don’t really know. The first thing I do after I get my license was driving to San Antonio. After that, life is just one huge road trip”

“And you survived?”

“Well yeah.” He laughed. “You can get anything and everything if you know where to look, you know. After your first trip, every other ones after is just like an upgraded version of it.”

“Do you always have a roof over your head? And food?”

“Not always. But when in doubt, this pickup can double as a small house. Also, food can come from all different sources. You just have to look.” He answered, remembering that one time he begged for leftovers. Food is still food, but that wasn’t something Minho would like to do again. They both stayed in silence after the last question.

“Hey Newt, if you’re thinking about running away like me, forget it.” Minho said softly, the dim lights made it hard to determine his expression. “It’s not worth it.”

“Why? Tell me why leaving the most dreadful city and the most neglectful parents ever is _not worth it_?” Newt laughed sorely. “If anything, my sis and I will finally find freedom.”

“You’ll lose everything.” It sounded more for himself than for Newt.

“Minho, I have nothing.”

“Everybody have something. Something that will be lost in the ground they left behind if they decide to leave.”

“Are you a poet or something?” Newt laughed, trying to lighten up the mood. “Seriously, Min. We have nothing. I have nothing. An empty house and some empty dreams. 2 dimensional life for a 2-D boy and girl. We can leave it all, Min. Me and Sara can be free. Can be _real._ ”

“You’re pretty real to me.” And Newt scoffed.

“You don’t get it, Minho. We hate life in California. It was all great in London but here? It’s like we took the wrong parents at baggage claim.” He closed his eyes, trying not to tear up. “As soon as Sara turn 18, we can leave all that.” He opened his eyes, staring Minho with his big glassy eyes. Minho looked at him as if he was frail, and Newt wished he’d just look at the road instead of himself. Finally Minho tore his eyes away.

“Her name is Sara?” He asked, casually. “Your sister?”

“Uh, yeah. She was born Sara, but I’ve heard her friends calling her Sonya or something. It’s the thing with us, I guess. So detached from our roots we picked our own name.”

If Minho wanted to ask why, he clearly refrained himself. Newt could see that.

“So Newt is not your real name?”

“Well, no.” Newt responded, looking at a 7-eleven they just pass by. The lights were so bright and clear he wished it was like that for him. For his life. “I picked Newt for myself. I was born something else.”

“Can I ask?”

Newt smiled at this. “Tell you what, I’ll tell you my name when we reached California safely. Until then, I’m just Newt to you.”

Minho clearly disagree, but Newt was faster to cut him off with pointing out that they were almost in Fort Stockton.

\---

“How does it feel to pick your own name?” Minho asked, in their shared bedroom in a shitty cheap motel they decided to rent. They won’t be staying long anyways. Minho was sitting on one of the beds while Newt was drying his hair. He claimed that a shower is needed if they’re going to be on the road for so long. Minho just scoffed and mumbled princess, only to have a cheap shampoo thrown at him.

“Like a ghost but a new personality.” Newt answer was half assed, but Minho bought it so Newt decided to shrug it off. Picking a name was like getting a nickname for him, nothing big or poetic. “How does it feels like to run around the country with a pickup?”

“Empty.” The blond man turned his head at this answer. When Minho didn’t continue, Newt sat on the bed opposite, encouraging him to go on. “What? God I will sound so fucking cliché and pathetic.” Minho let out a laugh, but continued. “Well, it feels empty. Not because I’m traveling alone, no of course. It’s because the road cannot give you the things you’ve lost from walking away ever so often. No matter how many sunrise I've watched, I cannot put it on the space left by my best friend’s smile that she will never show to me anymore. The road can’t give you the warmth of a mother’s love. The road can’t fill up the gap your mom left when she said you leave too much and it can’t go on like that. God, the road promises you so much, yet most of them is fake. The price, however, is as real as it can get.” He paused. "She was the price I paid."

“She?” Newt can't help but feel a twinge.

“Was the shining example of why I don’t sleep at all?” Minho chuckled, the fond memories washed over him. The little laughter ends when Minho saw Newt's furrowed eyebrows. “I’m sorry. She liked that song. Never really liked All Time Low though, but once we were at a party and that song sorta glued itself onto her brain. After we’re finished, that song is just a perfect depiction of how I feel. Funny how life works huh?”

Newt stayed silent.

“Listen Newt, I’m not the guy who sobs his heart out to a complete stranger but _god_ talking about her feels so nice, you know? I don’t love her anymore or anything but I guess in my memories we’re still in love. I don’t know. This is weird.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“Ah! But once you have started talking about the great and amazing Teresa Agnes, you cannot stop.” Minho said with a grand gesture. “We were best friends, it’s only expected for us to date. And everything was well until I got my license and started driving everywhere. She’s not the type to get angry when I’m gone, no. She got angry because I never let her tag along. It’s like I have a whole other world she can’t touch. She decided if she can’t have me as a whole, I can’t have her at all. She left. Saying I’m too much or something, I don’t know. I feel like a lame pun. I was holding onto her for dear life though. God, she keeps me sane with all her big talk and all. When she left, it was just so… dull? Heck, when she left it felt so different I thought the times with her was just a love scene from a stupid teen drama.” Minho took a breath. “Looking back now, I think we’re both too much for each other. It wouldn’t work. I guess that should’ve relieved me but it kinda suck to have someone like Teresa slip out of your fingertips.”

Somehow they’ve moved from seating into laying on their side, staring at each other intently. They maintained eye contact for a while and Newt silently wished that he can fall asleep and wake up each day to those narrow brown eyes. Before he could understand _what the fuck is that fluttery feeling inside his stomach_ , Minho said “Okay dude, story time over. Go to bed, you’re driving tomorrow.”

And with that, Minho raised his blanket and turned away.


	5. ;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road to El Paso ft. a motorcycle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooo sorry i've been away! I hope you're still tuned on this fic because I really enjoy writing this and there will be more coming your way!

Breakfast was bleak and somewhat gross with the almost-moldy-but-not-yet bread, a pack of sour jam, and two boiled eggs. But despite the gross food, the duo headed out of the motel around 9 AM, ready for adventures.

“Alright shank, here we go.” Minho said with hope latching on his words. “Drive us to El Paso.” He threw his pickup key at Newt, who failed to see it coming and had it hit his head softly.

“Shank?” Newt raised an eyebrow as he retrieved the key from the asphalt.

“It’s just something I say, whatever.”

Newt rolled his eyes and unlocked the pickup, keeping in mind to stop at the first shop they see to get _proper_ food. Minho followed and got into the passenger seat, and soon enough they got into another argument.

“No, no you don’t do that.” The Asian sighed. “You have to push in slightly on the key when you start—No _shit Newt_ no, push on the key.” Newt bit his lip and tried to do what Minho instructed. The engine made a pathetic wheeze. “Okay that’s good. Now, while you push, go _gas-break-gas-break-gas-gas_ but—fucking shit listen—but the second gas has to be longer than the first break, and the last gas shouldn’t last longer than a third of the first.”

So Newt tried to do it, only to get interrupted at the second gas. So he tried again. And again.

“God princess, how hard is it to start an engine?” He sighed, wiping his face. The man was getting more and more impatient. So was Newt, but he didn’t really have any other option except to keep trying. He pushed the key and tried to input Minho’s code-like routine of gas and brake.

The engine hissed.

“Okay you know what let me start the car.” Minho finally said, and Newt silently cheered. He smiled thankfully at Minho before sliding out of the pickup to let Minho do his magic. Before Newt can turn around to observe, the engine roared to life.

“But how—“

“Years of practice. Also, I have a relationship based on trust with this baby.” Newt scoffed at that, while Minho scooted back into his seat. “Come on, princess. We’re losing daylight.”

“It’s 10 AM Min, we’re not losing anything.”

“You mean other than my youth? Come on let’s ride!” he said while jumping over the center console.

And so they go.

\--

The ride lasted for about two hours, until Minho Park got bored beyond belief.

“Do you think birds know they’re flying?”

Newt mumbled a soft _what the fuck_. Minho continued.

“I mean, they’re always flying right? Do they just think that’s the way to get everywhere and we’re some kind of amazing walking beings they cannot understand? Do bird angels walk instead of fly? Do they research the possibility of a walking bird?” He sighed at the end of his bird rant, “Fuck bird, man. They’re so weird.”

Newt blinked at the sudden burst. “Okay, first of all I’d rather not.” He paused. “Second, there _are_ walking birds, stupid. Ever heard of ostriches? Emu? And birds are not as advanced as we are, the possibility of bird scientists and bird society is almost none, save for maybe the crows. They’re bloody smart. But besides their little crow society, there is no such thing as bird society, as far as I know of that is. If there is, wouldn’t we know about that? I mean, the entire world would pick it up if a bird is communicating another bird, or taking notes or doing other intelligent activities. Anyways, back to my point. No, they don’t acknowledge our walking as extraordinary because well, they’re _birds, Minho._ ”

The pickup were silent for a solid 5 minutes before the Asian man shook his head and said “Fucking nerd.” to which Newt chucked an empty water bottle at him.

Later at a clumpy diner, he made sure the waitress forget to put away the tomatoes from Minho’s omelet.

(Minho spent more time separating the red fruit from the egg rather than eating)

\--

“So in El Paso we’ll stay for a night or something?” Newt asked, late afternoon when the sun slipped towards the west.

“Maybe. If I’m feeling adventurous we’ll continue after dinner. Tucson is only 4 hours away.” A motorcycle zoomed past them, Minho winced at the loud noise.

“We’re getting close to El Paso, right?”

“Just one more hour. You’re tired princess?” A slight amusement in his tone made Newt frown.

“As if. It’s just that motorcycle.” He pointed out. “Yeah, he’s been acting weird. You notice?”

“Zooming in and out of lanes and making huge ruckus? Yep, he’s an idiot.”

They eyed the faded red motorcycle making sharp turns between lanes like doing some kind of stunt. Its engine roared into the air forcing everyone to pay attention. Not that it’s needed, everyone was already paying attention to it warily. Newt stepped on the gas and went past it, trying to stay away from the lunatic driver.

Some cars honked behind them, Newt knew it was for the motorcycle.

“Bloody idiot, he want to crash or something?” The brit mumbled.

The honking took a turn into a somewhat louder tone, somehow. Newt cursed under his breath, the motorcycle had taken a spot in front of them.

“What the fuck?” was all Minho said. They kept driving behind the crazy driver, uneasiness dripped between them. The faded red motorcycle kept swerving left and right, asking for attention. Suddenly, it stopped its dangerous stunt and stayed on the middle. Two boys looked at each other, confused. Newt shrugged, deciding that if they want to leave that craze behind, it was time.

He stepped on the gas and went on its side.

Suddenly, the motorcycle swerved in front of the pickup.

The last thing Newt remembered before a crash was Minho pulling the wheel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a filler i know don't kill me. next chapter will be up tomorrow hopefully. shoutout to pissedofsandwich as usual ily man


	6. he's the tear in my heart (I'm on fire)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things doesn't exactly go like how Newt planned it. but then again, when did it ever?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shameless 1.4k words of BLAH i'm sorry guys it's moving too slow to end in 4 chapters. title from twenty one pilot's tear in my heart, obvs.

He opened his eyes to a normal view of the sky and the road.

Which is a disappointment, he was half expecting smoke everywhere and Minho screaming “COME ON WE GOTTA GO NOW! SHE’S GONNA BLOW!!” and pulling him up before running away from a cool explosion.

Instead, it was a pretty normal view.

Saved from his bag on the dashboard (flew all the way from the seat), their water bottles that magically opened or break causing a dripping noise, beef jerky on his lap, and Minho’s hand on the steering wheel.

Minho.

A wave of panic washed over Newt for a brief minute, before a very angry and frantic Korean swearing hits him. The black haired boy was practically fuming as he spit out curse words varying in length and language while jumping out of the pickup and examining the damages.

_Well at least he’s okay._

Newt followed Minho outside (who had already stopped his swearing spree and now _actually_ examining his vehicle) and sighed. Without a car or some sort of transportation it’ll take too long to reach El Paso. Besides, Newt is not really a fan of busting his legs on walking.

“Okay, so in short: she’s fucked up.” Minho said, a hint of frustration in his voice as he stood beside Newt, facing the road. The lunatic motorcycle was out of sight, something they’re both grateful for. “the tow will come in like 20 minutes though but it’s all fine. I have a friend.”

“And this friend will bring us to LA?”

Minho gave a sore laugh. “I wish, man. I wish.”

\--

“Seriously, Min? What did you do to her?”

 They were standing in the middle of a beaten up repair shop in El Paso. The owner, aka Minho’s friend was next to them while one of his man examined the broken pickup. Newt sighed, the stench of oil and gasoline has been trying to invade his nose since the minute they arrive and he didn’t like it one bit.

“It was an accident, Gally.” Minho sounded stressed. “There was this crazy shank on a motorcycle and we gotta avoid him, crashed at the side of the road in the process. How bad?”

“Well, enough to need a three days’ worth of work.” Gally said.

“I’d give it a week if I were you.” A young man slide out from under the pickup. “Beside what the crash broke, there are a lot of other shit that needs changing.” Gally laughed at this.

“He’s not changing anything, Winston. You know cheap ol’ Minho.”

“I have you know that those things that needs changing are mementos, and I’m not cheap.” Minho huffed, Newt laughed at this. He immediately got a glare from his favorite Asian in the room. “Anyways Gally, are you sure you can’t get her up and running tomorrow?”

The said boy raised both of his hand in a defeated motion. “I’m no magician man, nothing I can do for her.”

Minho sighed. “Guess we’re not going anywhere huh

“Do you have a car we can borrow then?” Newt chimed in. He was desperate for a ride, he can’t be stranded _again_. Not when he had made it this far. Gally, upon being talked to by the stranger, raised his eyebrow.

“Who’s your boyfriend again Minho?”

“The name’s Newt, and I’m not his bloody boyfriend. Now do you have a car or no?”

Winston broke out in a laugh, making Newt glare at him. He didn’t seem to realize though. “Sorry pal, nothing in this shop is up and running. Unless you wanna take Jessica over there.” He pointed at a rusty car behind them. As if on cue, one of “Jessica”s door fell off.

It was almost funny how comical the situation was. Even Minho was smiling a little bit.

But it wasn’t laughing matter for Newt. He groaned and stormed out of the shop, frustrated. He sat at a patch of grass outside of the shop and let out another tired groan, collapsing to the ground. The universe is so rude for making this whole trip from hell thing. The sky above Newt was turning into a mixture of purple streaks and orange ones, making a beautiful scene for sore eyes. But even the sunset was not enough to bring Newt out of his misery. He wanted to cry. Wanted to scream. Wanted to be angry. Wanted to _go home_.

“Hey there princess.”

Newt shot up into seating position. He found Minho standing next to him. The black haired boy took a seat next to him. Newt sighed, bracing himself for the pep talk he knew was coming his way.

“Bacon?”

“What.” That wasn’t how people start pep talks.

“Here, have some bacon. Gally gave these to me for early dinner.” Minho shoved a plate of bacon to Newt’s lap, who was blinking in confusion. “Real dinner is later, he said he’s going out and we’re invited. Wanna come, or wanna wail on the ground till midnight?” He finished with a smile, and Newt didn’t really have a choice but to smile back because Minho Park has an amazing smile.

“I’ll put off the wailing for now.”

Who knows sunset and bacons can cure broken hearts?

\--

“How is this dinner again?” Newt shouted, trying to beat the music from those huge stereos everywhere

“In Gally’s book it is.” Winston shouted back. The club they were in was packed with people who were dancing and/or drinking and Gally had disappeared in the middle of that sea of people. Winston shrugged and made his way into the crowd, saying he needed a drink or something while gesturing Newt to come with. Newt followed close behind. It was almost impossible to make his way through the dancing crowd without losing Winston, but somehow he made it to the bar. The bartender was very busy, whipping up drinks left and right for everyone. They squeezed in between a drunk guy and a couple making out heavily on the counter.

“Hey Winston! Can I get you something?” The bartender was smiling at them, although looking tired. “And who’s your friend?”

“The usual please.” The bartender nodded and started mixing Winston’s drink. “This is Newt. He’s stranded here since his car broke. It’s in the shop now.”

“Newt? Well what will you have man? It’s on the house since I can’t bring myself to make a stranded guy pay!” He laughed.

“Just beer is okay.” Newt answered, laughing at the bartender’s joke. “Do you know how to get to LA? I don’t really have money to take the bus.”

“LA? Well, tag along with Minho! Squinty eyes, perfectly styled hair, he’s out there dancing so you should be able to find him, the dude’s going to LA.” Newt frowned at this.

“Fry, he’s with Minho. The jacked car is Minho’s pickup.” Winston said, nodding when Fry handed his drink.

“Oh shit, Minho’s pick up? I don’t know man, I’ll tell you if I think of something.” Newt smiled at Fry, although he wished that there was a real solution coming up at him.

“HEYYY PRINCESS YOU PARTYING?”

The three of them turned to see Minho Park with a bottle of beer in his hand. _How much did he drink we haven’t left him that long._ Minho was smiling ear to ear at Newt to the point that it’s scary, and before Newt could point it out he got pulled into the dance floor by said Minho Park. So into the sea of people they go, squeezing past sweaty bodies and blaring music to the dance floor. Except that Minho didn’t stop at the dance floor.

“Minho?” He called out when the boy didn’t stop. “Minho dude you’re drunk. Where are we going?”

Suddenly, they stopped. “No, I’m not drunk. Do you honestly think I’m a lightweight? I’m _Asian_ , Newt. We have snakes in our booze out there. I’m not drunk.” He tripped slightly over someone else’s foot. “Tipsy yes, but not drunk.” Newt thought that Minho is so much more than tipsy.

“Okay, you’re not. But where are we going?”

“Here.” Minho said, opening a door. Outside was a small porch and what looks like a half grown garden. He sat on the porch, pulling Newt with him. “Where it’s not fucking loud.”

“Cool, but why are we here?”

“You don’t wanna spend time with me?” Minho faked hurt, taking a long swig of his beer. “That hurts, princess.”

Newt chuckled at the nickname, taking a sip on his beer also. “I’ve been forced to spend time with you since two days ago, I need a break dammit.”

“Well you’re not getting one.” Minho beamed, face red. He looked like a ridiculous high school boy getting drunk on his first party.  _Okay he is some degree of drunk_. “You’re still stuck with me. I won’t have it any other way though.” He snuggled close to Newt. “I’ll miss you.” He said, making the blond boy blush.

“Minho you’re drunk.”

“Newt you’re beautiful.” He retorted with a laugh. “Boys are not beautiful, but somehow you are. That’s cheating, princess.” Newt let out an awkward laugh. He took a gulp of beer, thinking that if he wants to survive this he needs all the booze he could get.

“Hey Newt?”

“Yeah?”

Minho huffed. “Well that’s rude. Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

So he did, and he regretted it. Minho Park was amazing in dim light and slightly drunk. Or maybe more than slightly. Either way, he looks amazing. Not that he usually not, but there’s something almost magical with the beer and the thumping music and dim light and stranded in El Paso.

“Hey Newt?”

“Yeah?”

Minho smiled, satisfied that Newt’s response had met his standards this time. “Can I ask for something?”

“What?”

The next thing Newt knew was the taste of cheap beer and the feeling of warm chapped lips on his own, with some pop song thumping behind them and the bass beating almost louder than his heart.

_Minho kissed me_

“That.” He grinned, while Newt was as red as a tomato. Thank god it was dark. They stayed like that for a while, Minho smiling and Newt as dumbfounded as he could get. Until something piqued the Asian’s attention. He tilted his head and glanced behind Newt to the parking lot.

“Oh look, bikers. Let’s go see where they’re going. Maybe we an tag along.”

He stood up and walked away, waving at Newt to follow. Suddenly Minho didn’t look like a drunk high school teen anymore, approaching a biker gang in a parking lot like that. Was he drunk? Was he even aware of the kiss?

_Minho Park kissed me._ Newt thought, panic surging through his spine. _And I kissed him back._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hows that for a one day writing? hit me up at tumblr newtpuppy and shoutout for pissedofsandwich, without you this fic will turn into an aimless blurb


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